The Madness Series/Genesis
Table of Contents: Chapter I |''' Chapter II '''| Chapter III |''' Chapter IV '''| Chapter V |''' Chapter VI Chapter I Infernum Huh. A cave. How quaint. Who would’ve known the Great Spirit, one of such grand stature, one of such a far-flung and well-known name, one of… I digress. Basically, my old pal Mata Nui was living in this roughly-hewn cave in the middle of a desert. A midday sun unobstructed by clouds shone brightly above me and a stiff breeze blew, showering me with sand. Normally, this would make me set the place on fire in a bout of irritability, but deserts are notoriously hard to set ablaze. And so, I tip my beloved top hat downwards, wrap my cape that much tighter around me, and bear it. I reach the entrance of the cave. It stinks. It stinks something awful. Awful as in the month-old… excretions… of Nui-Jaga. So. Not only does he live in a cave, but he’s made his home in a Nui-Jaga nest. That’s low. I step forward, not even bothering to hide my disgust at the rotten corpse. Time had not been kind to the huge scorpion. From the looks of it, most of the organic flesh had been eaten away. I also notice, to my eternal regret, tiny little white orbs dotting the carcass. Some lay completely still, looking all innocent. Others were wriggling, rocking to and fro. Still others had already burst and the Niazesk they held were already feasting on the Nui-Jaga. Lovely. I’m tempted to just burn the whole thing, ‘til not even ashes would remain. “Don’t”. A rich, cultured voice echoes throughout the entire cave network. A voice full to the brim with power. A voice seemingly equal parts amused and stern. And I grin. “Big Nui, my man,” I holler back. “How’s everything?” He gave me no response, unless a shimmering of walls counted as a response. I was showered with multi-coloured sparks as the cavern around me peeled away. An illusion. Just an illusion. It was just all an elaborate illusion. “You like it, Infernum?” Mata Nui, seated on a flat lump of rock, swivelled towards me. In one hand was the Ignika. The other, an odd-looking gadget that slightly resembled a rounded hammer. I think the Great Spirit once told me it was something called a… a microphone, or something. And, on his face was a Kanohi Mahiki, though one I’d never seen before. It was gold and shimmering, as if it was forged from pure light. “Well, apart from the smell, I did. You got me.” Mata Nui sets down the microphone and his voice returned to its ordinary, friendly, and wise self. “It’s another experiment I’ve been doing,” he explained. “The Mask of Illusions is powerful in its own right, but making a perfect, flawless illusion? That is what I’m after, Infernum.” I smile and humour him. Ever since he finally found a reason to return to the world of the living, Mata Nui’s been voraciously trying to find answers to any and nearly all questions. Understandable, I guess. After all, one does need some catching up after a decade of sleeping. And so, I leave him to his research. Mata Nui continues on. “So, what brings you here? Surely not for that favour I owe you!” The last sentence has the barest hint of sarcasm in it. I’ve been holding onto an IOU from Mata Nui for years now, but I’ve never found a use for it. It’s become our little idea of a joke. “Actually,” I reply, eyeing my old friend. “I think it is high time you repay me.” Not until now, it seems. I now have a use, a desperate, urgent use for it. Life-threatening, in fact. A pause. An uncomfortable one. As soon as those words left my mouth, a heavy silence descended upon us and neither of us were very willing to break it. It was Mata Nui who summoned up enough courage. With a hesitant clearing of his throat, he asked me the million-widget question. “I see. What do you need me to do, Infernum?” I feel a relieved smile start to creep across my face. Though, in all honesty, I don’t know why I would be afraid. Since when has Mata Nui ever broken a promise? “I need you to do two things, Mata Nui.” He huffs with exasperation. “Stop being so melodramatic. I’ve already told myself that this day would eventually come, so I’ll do whatever you need done.” “Fine. I need a small book, two new scrolls, a chisel, and thirteen blank, stone tablets.” The Great Spirit, in the middle of tweaking his microphone, comes to a sudden, grinding halt. “Is this a joke, Infernum? Surely you can get those items yourself. I’m not your servant.” I ignore him and barrel forwards. “I’ll also need a fresh batch of Toa.” At that, Mata Nui grows more somber, but the incredulity in his eyes began to die away. Clearly, he was expecting a large request such as this. “You always were bad with creating Toa and everything else in general. Do you have the Toa Stones, then?” This time around, it is my turn to not respond. Instead, I shove a list under his face. Mata Nui snatches the list from me with a deft movement of his fingers. Almost as an afterthought, he then bats away my arm still stiffly stuck in his face. Seconds pass. The Great Being’s face was unreadable, a literal mask, devoid of expression. In all my life, I had never seen a look like that on my old friend’s face. I think… I think it was… suspicion? At last, Mata Nui spoke. “What’s going on here? You say you’ve got all the Toa ready, but you want to alter them? And how can you have seventeen Toa? There are only sixteen elements! And what’s this business with an Olmak?” I try not to allow a pleading tone slip into my voice, but it creeps in anyways. “Please. Just trust me.” Mata Nui simply glances at me. “Why?” I hesitate. The only answer I’m able to give is a blank, helpless stare. My erstwhile friend’s gaze doesn’t waver either. We go on for what must have been a minute like that, just staring at each others eyes; one a bright blue pair, the other a burning orange set. ‘Each minute I spend here is a minute lost, and I don’t have many left,’ I wanted to say. But I didn’t. I couldn't. At long last, Mata Nui holds up a finger to me, and then turns around. The finger so obviously meant “wait”. And that was exactly what I did. No, that was a lie. Instead, I allowed my gaze to wander. Though it wasn’t the first time I’ve visited Mata Nui, I’ve never ceased to be amazed at the technology he boasts. Even on the old island of Arthaka, there was nothing this advanced. Every inch of the grotto was covered with a terribly confusing array of snaking wires, blinking lights, strange looking knobs, and huge, glowing windows. I believe the latter were called “monitors”. “Infernum.” Mata Nui’s voice derailed my trains of thought and it careened off the rails, taking out the station out along with it. Yes, I was that shocked at being addressed. And the fact that Mata Nui now wore a Kanohi Rode didn’t make me feel any better. He continued on. “So, tell me,” he began, a soft glow suffusing the Rode. “What’s happening?” I hesitate. Even with all my power, I cannot cheat a Mask of Truth forged by the Matoran's Great Spirit. Yet, I plaster the biggest, most fake smile I can muster on my face. I must look like a serial killer. “Nothing! I’m just trying to cash in that favour you’ve owed me for so long.” It was the truth, wasn’t it? Mata Nui’s eyebrows went up. “Nothing? Nothing at all?” The Kanohi Rode continued to shine. I swear, it felt like the light was burning away my denials. “Yeah. That’s right, nothing.” The two of us went back to staring at each other. One pair of blue eyes, searching, searching, searching ever deeper for the truth. One pair of orange eyes, wide with… fear? Impossible. I do not fear. Mata Nui suddenly raises his hand. I jump. Will he strike at me? Will he…? He exchanges the Rode for the Ignika. And, with a snap of his fingers, a pile of tablets materialize along with the book, chisel, and scrolls I had requested. They all settle to the floor with a soft whump. Upon doing that, he turns to face away from me. In a loud voice, he declares, “I think I need a break. A long break. I will head outside this room and I’ll have no idea what will be done in this room while I’m gone. When I return to this room, it will be exactly as it was before. Therefore, that means nobody was here.” And with that, he briskly heads off into the cave tunnels leading to the surface. I am left all alone. Alone with the likes of hardware never seen before, never dreamt of by even the Great Beings. This. This will be fun. Somehow, I feel as nervous as a Ga-Matoran on her first field trip. That was a terrible simile. I've never even set foot in a Metru Nui school, and I'm sure as Karzahni not a girl. It was not long, however, before my elation faded, only to be replaced by anxiety along with a strange sense of haste. I came here with a purpose in mind, not to admire the many glowing levers and buttons. But the aforementioned levers and buttons were all just screaming to be admired. For Mata Nui's sake, there was even the traditional big red button. With a slight shake of my head, I turn my attention back to the monitors. Distractions are a luxury I can’t afford at this stage. I seize the keyboard nearby and direct my gaze to the vast multitude of monitors. How Mata Nui manages to find his way through this labyrinth of virtual data truly beats me. My poor eyes are assaulted with constantly fluctuating bars, columns upon columns of descending numbers, and... What do we have here...? "Toa Digital Designer, V.3.1." This is perfect. At last, nearly a decade of constant plotting, constant thinking, constant searching, my dastardly scheme will bear fruit at last. Yet, one final hurdle stood firm against me. How in Artahka's name does all... this... even work!? I barely know what a microphone is. I wouldn't be able to operate a wondrous machine such as this if my life depended on it. Which, ironically, it did. I lower my eyes to the keyboard. A fleeting thought races through my head: Why in the world are the letters all jumbled up? Ah, to heck with all this. I raise my hands, as if about to begin conducting a Matoran marching band. And, with an odd sense of satisfaction, I bring all ten of my fingers crashing down on the keys. I believe I may be the first person in all of Spherus Magna to execute the "keyboard smash”. I feel so proud of myself. The pride doesn’t last too long. The moment the keyboard felt the full force of my ten-fingered wrath, letters and digits raced across the monitors. I manage to catch the barest glimpses: female Toa of Ice, combative Toa of Water, blind Toa of Sonics. My eyes widen with dismay. This was really not how it was supposed to go. My fingers, still perusing the keyboard, hover over a large button with an arrow on it. Obviously, that meant going back. I press it. I'm met with a huge message which flashes before my eyes: Confirmed. Alterations being made. Mata Nui is going to flay me. Well, if he's going to be angry, then I might as make it worthwhile. As I rush from the grotto, I snag the Mahiki, which I now dub the Mahiki Nuva, and the modified microphone. Oh! The tablets! I hurriedly scoop them up in my arms and book it. Hopefully, that program would actually do it's job and those botched-yet-interesting changes would take place. I blow by Mata Nui who gazes at me with a peculiar look as I barrel past. It's instantly washed away by fury when he sees what's tucked beneath my arm: the Mahiki Nuva. There's no way in Karzahni he can catch me, and we both know it. All Mata Nui can do is shake his fist at me while looking very much like the irate Turaga. Just watch. He'll be even more pissed off when he finds out what I did ins- "Infernum!" Mata Nui's roar, one of great rage, halts a lone, prowling Iron Wolf dead in its tracks. It cowers, head bowed and tail tucked between its legs. The cave shrike it was chasing, however, was not so easily fazed. It continued to run, eventually taking to the air, leaving behind the hungry wolf to skip yet another meal. In fact, the ground itself trembled before the Great Being's rage. The distant mountains, too, seemed to quiver at the sound of such primal fury. But not I. I was not afraid of Mata Nui. I do not fear, for I am the god of the dead. Chapter II Xaedan One year later My mind. It's wandering. Where to? Who knows, really. It's been tending to run off ever since I stepped foot on this island. I remember that day clearly, more or less. Rainy, it was. Might even have been a thunderstorm. Wind lashing everywhere, nearly taking out the palm trees that lined the beach. I, in my little Canister, came in with the terribly rough waves. Landed in the middle of a beach. Soon enough, the other members of my team decimated the beach with their own Canisters. To this day, the huge furrows left by the Canisters are still there. That was over a week ago. One after another, we emerged, all sixteen of us, each of us fully decked with Toa tools, masks, and armor. Each of us with a hazy memory and new Toa powers. Each of us with a sole purpose burned in our minds. Funny thing is, none of us knew what that goal was. On second thought, that can be said for most Toa nowadays. It's been fifteen years since the Great Spirit reformed the planet. For the better? Perhaps. Perhaps for the Matoran and Agori. Not so much for what was left of the Toa. The Matoran and Agori were left to their own devices after the final battle and got used to fending for themselves. Ah, well. A soft breeze quietly rolls by, rustling the tall willow's swaying leaves. And I open my eyes. The sky. It's blue. With clouds, a sun. It feels right. Someone tugs at my leg. I shift my gaze downwards, and I am met with a little Ga-Matoran. She's holding a slightly wilted flower, but it was a beautiful flower nonetheless. She thrusts her hand forward. Clearly, the flower, a rose, is meant for me. Behind my mask, I smile and gently grasp the stem. It amazes me, the difference in our size. Her hand, small as it was, was barely half of mine. Yet, she is not intimidated. A shadow looms over us all. The bright sun vanishes, the clouds disappear, and blue shifts to green, silver, and black. Another Toa bends over. Caine. Toa of Air. Huge. Strong. The tiniest squeak escapes the Ga-Matoran. Caine is no ordinary Toa, however. The guy's nearly eleven feet, with spikes, skulls and claws covering his entire body. He's also been subjected to Hordika venom and is given to fits of devastating rage. His face has been brutally disfigured by the venom so he always wears a metal mask. Caine's probably the nicest Toa I know. "There, there," Caine says softly. The Ga-Matoran, seeing that the hulking monster before was indeed just hulking and not a monster, tentatively reaches out. Caine, in turn, extends one of his own clawed hands and gingerly grasps the Matoran's. "Well, little Matoran. Do you have a flower for me, as well?" Caine jokes. "Nuh-uh," was her response. Then she purses her lips. After a good moment's thought, the little Matoran rushes forth and hugs Caine's leg, just the right one. Her arms barely reach across. Cries from behind me catch my attention. I crane my neck and look past the willow I've been resting against. A trio of Matoran, no, a pair of them with an Agori. The Agori was the one who caused the racket, waving his arms about and gesturing for the Ga-Matoran to return. Without a second thought, she scampers off, rejoining her friends. Hm. Friends. I wonder if I'll ever have one. There's a whisper at the very back of my mind. "Yeah, I guess," I reply, quietly, tentatively.. And so, the two of us were alone, alone under the gently swaying willow branches. I say nothing. I was never one for words. Caine looks at me. I can feel his gaze on me, willing me to speak up, to at least try to start a conversation. I say nothing. I was never one for words. He sighs. "Maybe next time, Xaedan, eh?" By the time I can bring myself to look at him, I'm the only person under the tree branches. It's been this way ever since the team got together. I'm a Toa of Fire. Naturally, the others look to me as the leader. They'll be sorely mistaken. Sure, I can cause a volcano to erupt. But can I hold a conversation? Someone like Caine should lead. The subtle wind has stopped. The willow's branches fall still. I get up, brush a speck of dirt from my leg and leave the park, thinking, still thinking. My mind starts to wander. Chapter III "Mary" "I'm your friend," I whisper. "Yeah, I guess," he replies, quietly, tentatively. I sigh deeply. I am... different. I'm not like the others. I know it, they know it. Rather, they "knew" it. Three things. Just three tiny things that set me apart from "normal", as the others so eloquently put it. The first, and perhaps foremost, is that I'm not even what the others call a "Toa", whatever that means. I look like one, yet I am not. Apparently, if you're not one, you get disregarded. You get treated differently. I guess that's just how it is on this planet. I don't have a name either. That's just another itty-bitty deviation from the average, upstanding denizen. In other words, it's another thing that separates me from "normal". Being normal sure is hard. No name, no identity. No identity, no sense of being. I am no one. I cannot feel. I cannot know. Then again, that seems about right for me. After all, I am stuck in some guy's head, whispering bits of advice to him every now and then. It doesn't help much that the guy I'm with is a bit of an introverted slack-jawed dreamer. He’s your average Toa of Fire. Average height. Average… everything really. Oh, he’s bit bulky, perhaps. Spiky, too. Ah, but he’s an introverted slack-jawed dreamer I happen to be madly in love with, even if he doesn't know it yet. He'll find out soon enough. That, I can guarantee. Hm. Dear me. I think I told a lie. Not being this "Toa" thing is not quite the most vital thing setting me apart. You see, I'm not supposed to exist. I'm not real. That’s point number three. I should have died over two hundred years ago. Two hundred years... So much has happened. I remember images of fire. Of dead parents. Of a dead me. Of being reborn. Of a certain Prison. And of falling in love. Sounds strange, right? I'm simply not like the others. I know it, they know it. Rather, they knew it. Chapter IV Xaedan Six days later My mind. The Foundries. Twelve square kilometers of acrid smoke and the towering furnaces the produced it. I like it here. The billowing smoke forms a second sky here. Heat radiates from the surrounding buildings, lending a slight haze to everything I see before me, from the bustling Ta-Matoran and Fire Agori to the tiny Lava Rats scampering across the streets. Ringing clangs of metal against metal and the continual grinding of gears keeps my mind from wandering. The noise keeps me tethered to reality. Maybe this is why I like the Foundries so much. At a leisurely pace, I set off to the Marketplace. It's boring. Just so mind-crushingly boring. Nearly two weeks have gone by since I arrived on this islamnd and nothing, absolutely nothing at all, has happened. 'Boredom' is thrown out the window when I notice my favourite willow tree covered in ice and mud. That is... inconvenient. I quite like sitting underneath those willow branches, counting the minutes as they tick away. The weekly sparring must have caused this. For two days each week, we transform the town's idyllic park into a battlefield. No. Perhaps an arena is a more accurate word. After all, there are never cheering spectators in war. So. Mud and ice. That obviously meant Kavalus and Kaixin who were two more Toa on the team. Kavalus, master of the Earth, Kaixin, she of Ice and the frigid winds. Yes, Kaixin is a female Toa of Ice. Not only is she female, but she also cracks jokes, pulls pranks, and is perpetually happy. Such a strange Toa team. I quietly watch them as they weave and dance around each other, seemingly equally matched. All around me, yells and happy cries come from the jostling crowd of Haven's citizens. Instantly, I'm reminded of the old arenas of Bara Magna. Terrible stories I've heard since the Great Reformation bubble to the surface of my consciousness, presenting disturbing images. I manage to tell myself that my fellow team members are just practicing. My mind. It's wandering again. "Xaedan." Caine approaches with a blue-armored Toa in tow. "Glad to see that you're here. You missed out on last week's sparring, right?" At that, Caine's companion snorts. I can just make out her muttered comment: "What kind of leader doesn't train with his team?" That's Tsukumi. A Water Toa of unprecedented caliber. There is no doubt in my mind that she could have claimed the position of leader for herself if she wasn’t aware of the fact that she couldn’t even lead a bunch of sheep anywhere. So. We've, thus far, a shy Toa of Fire, a mutated, yet calm Toa of Air, an aggressive Toa of Water, and an outgoing, tomboyish Toa of Ice. Like I said, my team is just so strange. Caine continues. "So, Xaedan. Why don't you try your hand at this? The rest of us have already gone and fought." I pause. "Fine." Anything to stop this monotonous boredom, I'll gladly do. At that one single word, Caine's eyes lighten up. His mask hides it, but I know he's smiling. Is it really that big of a deal that I partook in a conversation? Apparently, it was. Caine was already yelling at Kavalus to step out and for the crowd to give some room. So. I was to fight with Kaixin. I enter the ring, fists clenched so tightly they squeaked so no one would notice them trembling. Kaixin throws me a grin and a wink. "Time to prove your worth, leader." Though her words were lighthearted and meant as a passing comment, they carry much more weight for me. Will I be good enough? Only one way to find out. I raise my right arm. With a flash of dazzling light, my Dragon gauntlet materializes, much to the oohs and aahs of the Matoran and Agori. In response, Kaixin flips her claws out and settles into a comfortable stance. A loud female voice rings out. "I am Tsukumi, Toa of Water, and I will be the referee for this match," she declares, eyeing me all the while. Her distaste was almost palpable. "The match begins..." One second. Two. Three. "Now!" The crowd falls silent and Kaixin softly calls at me, wishing me good luck. I nod back despite feeling Tsukumi's unwavering gaze on me. Now what? Should I strike left? From the top? My mind. It's wandering again. Therefore, I have no idea of why I'm on the ground with icicles surrounding me while Kaixin stands over me, equal parts bemused and concerned. Dammit. A whisper, again. It's telling me to focus. To concentrate, to keep my goal in sight. Very well, then. "Boost!" I yell. In response, my gauntlet flares. I need more room to maneuver. Within the blink of an eye, I vanish in a wall of flame and materialize several feet behind my opponent. This is more like it. Kaixin doesn't wait for me, however. With a fierce smile on her glowing mask, she whirls her claws at me. My gauntlet rises and I prepare to block the left hook that suddenly turns in an overhead chop, landing a clean blow on my head. What...? Ah. Her frost claws. Coating her weapons in two feet of hard ice, increasing their limited range. Smart. But this would be the last time. "Boost," I growl. My gauntlet, yet again responds with a flash of light. Fire. I think of fire. Fire everywhere, launched from my hands, wreathing me, erupting from the ground. I make it so. In seconds, I'm hurling fireballs through a fiery screen that surrounds my entire body. Kaixin flips and ducks, trying to avoid the sudden lava that springs from the ground all the while. Her mask is still glowing, so it must be either a Mask of Agility or the much rarer Mask of Fate. My mind. I will not allow it to wander! One more time. "Boost!" I scream. Boost, boost, boost. Two, four, eight. I've now multiplied my elemental powers eightfold. An icy wind curls around my legs. Kaixin's voice rings out clearly. "I'm not bested this easily, Xaedan!" The flames surrounding me are swept away, to be replaced by howling winds and hail. I can barely even see past my outstretched hand, and I already feel icicles forming on my armor. And, through it all, Kaixin simply strolls up to me, claws sheathed, her pistol in hand. She means business. In my disoriented condition, I'm more helpless than a baby Guuko as she places the barrel of her gun against my chin. Ah. That whisper, once again. "Eightfold." "Eightfold," I breathe out. "That's right." Kaixin frowns quizzically at me. "What was that? Did you say something?" She cocks the pistol. "Eightfold," I repeat louder. The Toa of Ice's curious gaze melts and is replaced with a look of indifference. Not much time left, now. I look at my gauntlet. "Explosion," I whisper. My gauntlet gives one final burst of light, this time a dangerous red flash. Intense heat instantly turns hail to rain as I engulf Kaixin in a pillar of roiling flames from the ground. Through the roar of the churning inferno, I can hear her yells of agony. And my heart lurches. What have I done..? "You fool!" A strange, garbled roar fills the air. A huge dragon-like creature comprised entirely of water slams into me, sending me to the ground where I lay gasping for air. Needless to say, any and all fires were instantaneously extinguished. As I do my best to clear the water from my face, I see Caine and Tsukumi charging at me, fury written across the latter's glowing face. Clearly, her mask had something to do with the water dragon. "Fool!" she says again. "You could very well have killed her!" Caine places a restraining hand on the Toa of Water's shoulder. "Xaedan... What you did there... Try not to do that again, for obvious reasons." I sigh. "Yeah..." Caine hasn't even finished closing his mouth when Tsukumi returns to yelling at me. "The only person you're allowed to pull that stunt off on is me, hear?" I nod despondently. Wait. What? Tsukumi, however, has already stalked off to help a smoking, unconscious Kaixin back to her feet. I hear deep chuckles. That would be Caine. "Tsukumi will be your opponent tomorrow morning in the final match," he explains. "It looks like you've made an impression on her and she wants you to not hold back against her." I find myself grinning a bit myself. "Why would I hold back? I hate her guts." Caine laughs. "Well, don't get ahead of yourself. After all, you are weak to water. In addition, she had to get past me in the semifinals to earn her spot in the finals." My eyes widen. "She... beat you?!" Caine shrugs sheepishly. "Thank you for the compliment. I do fancy myself as a competent Toa of Air, but that just proves how powerful your enemy will be, Xaedan. Take care when dealing with her." I nod decisively. "Thanks for the advice. I might as well turn in now to prepare and rest." The sun had almost disappeared, with only the barest slice of brilliance still above the rolling hills of the horizon. "Good call," Caine replies. "I'll be seeing you then." As he walks away, the huge Toa of Air turns to face me. "I'm glad that we've talked, Xaedan. It was nice meeting you." And with that, I'm left staring dumbfoundedly at a quickly receding Caine. Does this... does this mean I have a friend now? Chapter V Xaedan My humble little abode is one of many identical little two-room houses in Haven's Residential section. It's nice enough, my home. It's well furnished, well-organized. Rather cozy if I do say myself, on account of a little fireplace in the bedroom. A merry little blaze provides a flickering glow to the entire room, washing everything in a hazy orange. I wouldn't mind it too much, if not for the six-foot ceilings and impossibly narrow doorways meant for Matoran and Agori. I've broken the door frames twice already, much to my embarrassment. The townsmen don't seem to mind too much, though. With a huff, a pent-up breath I don't think I was aware of even holding, I collapse on my little cot. I've broken one of these as well. Though the night is still young, exhaustion is already silently creeping behind me, its footsteps just shy of audible, threatening to overwhelm me, to cast me into the inky darkness of sleep. Come on. It's just sleep, no need to personify it so strongly. I crack an eye open and peer at my bedside table. As always, there was a hot meal ready for me. If I didn't know any better, these Matoran and Agori were treating me and my fellow Toa like kings and queens. Honestly, didn't they have anything better to do? Lazily, my gaze hops about, journeying around the sturdy wooden rafters holding the roof above my head up, then down to the hardwood floor, otherwise bare save for a slightly threadbare throw rug, finally alighting to the nightstand, once again. I shift to gaze at the roughly hewn clay bowl to find a brilliantly glowing soup, of thick consistency. Lightstew. One of my favourites. A stew made from equal parts lightvine and lightfish, along with a dash of other seasonings and spices. The result? A bowl of steaming liquid that also doubles as a lamp. A delicacy. I down just three gulps before returning to my bed. Not at all hungry. There's been a tightness in my gut ever since Caine said farewell to me. Ridiculous, I'm getting worked over a potential friend. I've got better things to do. Like... like... Regardless, what a day. It's guaranteed, however, tomorrow will be every bit as interesting as today, if not even more. And, with that unusually hopeful thought floating through my head, I tumble into the inky blackness of unconsciousness. It's an interesting feeling, falling asleep. It's literally like falling. Falling? Maybe my mind's wandering again. If one's mind wanders, is it normal to see visions of blood-splattered walls made of rusted, poorly welded metal? At least, I think it was metal. Since when did metal pulse and feel warm? I am not going to answer that question. The ceilings aren't much better. No, wait. Actually, they're a lot worse, with bits of flesh, limbs, and broken masks hanging down from chains and an assortment of hooks. Meat hooks, serrated hooks, fish hooks, hooks small and large, hooks thick and thin, any hook you could care to name, they’re all there. Oddly enough, I don’t seem to be afraid. If anything, it feels like I’ve seen all this before. Perhaps in a recurring dream in the past? Hm. I’ve heard that there’s a great psychiatrist in the north side of Haven. Specializes in dealing with the mentally insane. Perhaps I'll pay him a visit. Other than the exceedingly tasteful ceiling decor, I can make out little else. A thick blanket of red fog surrounds me, reducing my vision to what I'd experience in one of Kaixin's blizzards, though a blood-curdling warmth surrounds me instead of a relatively comforting below twenty. That's right. I'd rather risk frostbite than spend another second in this comforting, lukewarm mist. I've never had my mind wander around in a dream, or whatever this is. It's quite the experience. And suddenly, everything around me is gray. Just gray. Nothing more, nothing less. The rusted walls, the bloodied ceilings, they were no more. Even the warm, choking fog was nowhere to be seen. The world had been washed away and replaced by nothingness. Somehow, I felt more at ease in that hellhole than in this gray void. Still. This is just a dream, and one cannot die in something that's fake. Dreams are fake. They hold no meaning. I continue forward, disconcerting as it is. I feel like on I am walking on nothing, going nowhere, making not the least bit of progress. Huh. I see the fog again. Not red, however, not this time. Blue, a roiling electric blue mass of smoke. Literally electric, too. I occasionally feel a mild sting as it sparks against my armor. A voice, full to the brim of power, rich and cultured, equal parts stern and amused, echoes towards me. The disembodied words were so loud I feel the vibrations in every last gear of my body. It very well could have been the voice of a god. "Uhhh. Is there a Xaedan? Is Xaedan present?." Incredible. God knew my name. Is that a good or bad thing? "Here." I felt... compelled to respond. There was no thought behind that word, just an automatic reflex sent from my brain to the nerve of my jaw. In turn, my vocal cords slammed together, producing that singular, forced syllable. The moment I step forth, the gray vanishes, to be replaced by something reminiscent of the hellish hallways I first encountered. The ceiling, now devoid of flesh and damaged Kanohi, was covered with flashing diodes, all in every shade of blue you can possibly imagine. The walls here are clean and perfectly smooth, without a single blemish. They, along with floors, are also filled with pulsing blue wires and knobs. Yet, the same foreboding feeling still permeates the air, kind of like tear gas, or maybe a cloud of poison "Ok. That's good. Students, welcome to Deathmatch 100. I'll be your instructor for this semester." It was god speaking again. "If you take a quick look around you, you should find yourself seated in the Blue Sector. If there are any problems with that, please do not hesitate to let me know straight away. Lectures take place two times a week, every Tuesday and Thursday." Seated? All? Where were the others? Lectures? Questions, questions, questions. I feel like a a young Agori inquiring about everything he sees to his mother. Cool it, Xaedan, one thing at at time. This mysterious voice spoke the truth. Somehow, I am seated in chair made of flimsy, cheap plastic and a wooden desk rests in front of me. The desk is ancient, with pit marks and scribbles all over it. I crane my neck to try and get a good look at the place. For the first time, I see the true vastness of the chamber. This “Blue Sector” was every inch as big as Haven Park, if not bigger. I'd estimate it to be about, I don't know, five thousand square feet? Sounds a bit excessive for a lecture hall, if you ask me. "Ok, lecture's about to start so pay attention. We have a lot of material to cover today. Do you best to take notes and don't forget to attend the tutorials later this week." I settle into the wobbly chair as best as I can and give this mysterious being my full attention. "There are seventeen of you," he continues, "Chosen from among many. You stand before me today, at the edge of changing your lives forever." Seventeen of us. One of me, along with sixteen other hazy shadows I see dotted around the Sector. Clearly, our identities were hidden from each other. The mysterious speaker goes on. "I am known by many titles, many names. You may call me Your Right Honourable Excellent Imperial Worship, or Your Most Exalted Majesty on High. Or Infernum. Professor during lectures is also perfectly acceptable." Infernum. I’ve heard stories, myths really, about him from my days as a Matoran. Apparently, he was akin to the Grim Reaper, the one who death incarnate. That bodes well for me, doesn’t it? "All of you will now look at your right hand," Infernum continues. “Go on. I don’t have all day, you know. People are so slow-witted these days.” What a strange order. I do so... and I find a stone tablet. Odd. Very odd indeed. "Each of you will have what is called a Future Chronicle. Each has the power to foresee the unforeseen. Truly, each one of you Holders has the power to change the world. How it changes, is up to you. You are all in the Great Deathmatch and there is no turning back. All that you touch, you change. Any chance you had to change your mind was lost when you agreed to be revived. Well, I say agreed. Someone of you got forced into this mess, but that's all minor detail, yes? Oh, and don't bother asking me how to use those tablets. That's really no fun." Great... Deathmatch? That's right. I was healed from the brink of death on the condition that I would partake in the Game. The memories are hazy but… I think… Infernum goes on. "There is just one rule. Use any powers at your disposal to kill anyone in the Deathmatch you come across. The players may be Agori, Matoran, Dark Hunters, even Makuta. Anyone at all. It could even be me! But it’s not." He chuckles at his own joke. A hazy figure near to me shifts. It seems like he’s raising an arm in a plea to be heard. Infernum nods, but no words come from the hidden person. Infernum seems to have heard, however. “An excellent question, Ninth. About that name. Ninth. Each of you have been assigned a number for the duration of the Deathmatch. First, Second, and so on. Anyways. Ninth’s question is a good one. Rather, questions. Ninth, could you repeat your question for the class to hear?" A short pause permeates the room as Ninth supposedly repeats his question, perhaps with a clearer voice. At any right, I couldn't hear a thing. "What is a “Dead End”, and what is a “Countdown”?" Infernum nods approvingly at the inquiry. "A Dead End message, or flag, appears when the future predicted by your Chronicle will result in your death. It’s a warning. A Countdown flag comes up when that future becomes realized in exactly one hundred seconds. These two properties of your Future Chronicle are exceedingly important, do not overlook them.” At that, Infernum smirks. “With these two flags, you’ll know exactly when you die. And let me tell you... odd things happen in this game when a Chronicle Holder dies. Watch out for that.” He peers around. “Anything else? Questions? Comments? Concerns? Good. Be off with you all, it’s time for my beauty sleep.” And with that, Infernum sweeps his cape and walks away from us. For the first time, I catch a good look at him. Short, he was. Short with red and black armor, along with a devilish mask. His stature reminded me of a Turaga. But, I've never heard of a Turaga carrying a wicked looking gunstaff, or one who sports a top hat. In all honesty, I have no idea of what to make of this. It was a very... entertaining dream, I'll say. Or was it a nightmare? Abruptly, Infernum turns back to the seventeen of us. Clearly, he had something on his mind. "Oh. One last thing. A little rhyme to set the mood of the Game: One of you shall be the spark. One of you shall be the inferno. And only one shall walk out unscorched." He laughs slightly, though there is no humour in it. "One will begin the deaths. One will cause many of the deaths. And only one will escape death." Infernum throws his hat into the air and is sucked into it. He vanishes. And that was that. Chapter VI Xaedan Morning. The light after sleep's long darkness. And what a sleep that was. I have no idea what to make of the vision. What it truly a vision? Or was I just anxious about my fight with Tsukumi? Tsukumi. She’s annoying, argumentative, and much too aggressive. I would be angrier, if not for the fact that I'm secretly grateful for slight nervousness about her pulling me out of the strange vision. I guess that rotten Toa of Water is good for something after all. As expected, breakfast had been placed on my bedside table. Rich and piping hot, it smelled wonderful. Battle, however, makes me lose my appetite. I make to leave my little house. However, I take on final glance at it. Its orderliness, its tidiness, its simpleness. I close the door. Lock it. Test the doorknob. Good, ready to go. Instantly, I'm swarmed with Matoran and Agori, all cheering my name. I can also see Caine doing his best to wade through the crowd without stepping on anyone. It looks terribly difficult, though he manages to knee only one Agori in the face before reaching me. Behind him is another member of my Toa team. Orange and white he was, with more scars than Toa Helryx. Here was the living legend Toa Anzix, the famed Toa of Plasma. Renowned for his singular, undivided use of swords, as well as his skill with them. He had been recognized as the greatest duelist in Aqua Magna. It would be of no surprise to me if he was the best in all of Spherus Magna. "Come, Xaedan. Time waits for no one," Anzix says with a subtle, lilting accent. I believe that accent denotes him as a former resident of the Southern Chains once part of the Matoran Universe. Caine says nothing but he sets off at a brisk pace to the Park. It helps to have an eleven-foot giant when you're trying to get through a sea of townspeople. They simply part way in the wake of Caine. Those who are too slow get (gently) shoved aside. We move forwards, past the labs, pasts the schools, past the Town Hall. The Park draws ever nearer. It's perhaps half a minute away. Fifty, maybe sixty steps. The whisper tells me to calm myself. I do so, taking in a deep breath. I am then told by the whisper to look at my right hand. Again, I do so. The tablet. It's there again, in my shaking right hand, weighing much more than a little stone slab should. Memories of the dream race through my head as I read the little tablet. The Introvert Chronicle Number Eight 11:43 - I count the steps it would take to reach Haven's Park. 11:44 - The fight between me and Tsukumi starts. So, it's like a diary then. A journal. There was more. 11:46 - Tsukumi fires a volley of Water Arrows at my left side. I freeze. What? "Hey," Caine calls back. "Let's go, Xaedan." Fortunately, I'm facing away from them as I read the tablet. Just what is happening here? I cast my mind back to the strange dream. Words, as loud as they had been when first spoken, repeat themselves to me in my head: "Each has the power to foresee the unforeseen." My mind. It's wand- "Toa Xaedan! You are late!" The time has come. Tsukumi stands at the opposite end of a ring made of roaring, fist-pumping townspeople. Snaking ribbons of water already surround her and her mask is giving of a brilliant halo. A young, cheerful voice rings above the Matoran and Agori's awful racket. "Hey everyone! Kaixin, Toa of Ice here, and I'll be the ref!" So, Kaixin was well and just as bouncy as ever. That's good. Kaixin goes on. "We have the defending champion, Toa Tsukumi!" Loud cheers. "And, the challenger, Toa Xaedan, the jerk who likes beating me up!" At first, I assume she's sour about the scorching I gave here yesterday, but, thankfully, Kaixin has a wide smile when she says this. The whisper. It's back. It's telling me to... to get ready? "Three!" Kaixin, joined by the crowd, starts the countdown. "Two!" Here goes. "One!" Kaixin hasn't even yelled "Fight!" yet, but Tsukumi clearly isn't one to wait around. With a fierce cry, she leaps to me, legs scything, water weaving. I respond with a raised right arm. With its usual glow, my Dragon gauntlet wraps around my forearm. "Boost!" Twofold. I'll take the hit, if it means doubling my output. But what a hit! Her legs slash, and they catch my torso between them. With a deft mid-air twist, I'm down on my back, armor smoking where her water touched me. Already, her condensers are refilling, drawing water from the air around her. That must mean she has all the water she could possibly want to power her attacks. My wandering mind will be my undoing. Tsukumi has already whipped her hand at me, still lying on the ground. Water materializes upon her fingertips, sharpening into long, needle-like points. I roll right. The arrows slam to my left. So... I have the power to change the world. "Boost!". Fourfold. My roar carries through the whole park. With the ghost of my voice still ringing, I rush forwards, fire bursting forth. My head follows. Yes, it feels like it, too, is bursting. The whisper, with a hint of exasperation, tells me I should have gotten ready for this. But, who in all of Spherus Magna can prepare for a being to suddenly materialize from their head? ---- "Mary" I laugh and, with a bit of exasperation, I say, "I told you, get ready!" And with that, I will myself to exist. Existing is always disorienting at first. It's all just a bunch of flame and bursts of shadow. Slowly, slowly, the fiery chaos takes form. A form with red, black and shining silver armor. With deadly claws, sweeping tail, and demonic wings. With the fell, yellow-hued gaze of an Infernum Fiend. That’s me. Yours truly. Xaedan was in a bit of a pinch, so this is the perfect time to lend a helping hand. I come to be amidst absolute silence. At last, it is the love of my life who speaks first. ""Mary"! Why?" I am not given a chance to respond. "Coward!" the Water Toa declares. "Xaedan, you rely on others to fight your battles!" No one, no one, says that to my Xaedan and lives. No one. With step after deliberate step, I close the gap between that hateful Toa of Water. She hurls a sphere of water at me. Suddenly, shock flashes across her face. I look down. I didn't even feel her attack; I had no idea that it even hit. No wonder she looked so surprised. Enough. Time to end this. With a single finger outstretched, I fire a thin bolt of black flame. My, my. She's fast. A blackened crater marks the spot where she had been just a second ago. I feel a feral smile creep across my face. I will enjoy this. Killing has always been a pleasurable experience. "Stop!" ---- Xaedan "Stop!" I cry. Both Tsukumi's and "Mary"'s heads swivel to me. "Just stop," I repeat. "This isn't a deathmatch!" "Mary" gasps. "Xaedan! Incoming! On your right side!" Without thought, I throw myself leftwards. A watery dragon barrels past, roaring with a gurgle all the while. Oh... Tsukumi. Why? No, I know why. She’s the type who would to see this battle to the very end. Her honour is just too strong to be broken. Now’s really not the time for our little spar, to be honest. I glance upward at "Mary". She is now shaking with unbridled rage, a haunted, wild look in her eyes. I’ve seen that look before. It always comes right before she kills someone. More importantly, she holds a stone tablet in her hand. I was wrong. This truly is a Deathmatch. ---- "Mary" A reddish haze, red as blood, descends upon my vision. kill Kill. KILL. I raise my finger once again. This is your end, Toa of Water. My smile widens. ---- Xaedan I rush forth to the helpless Toa Tsukumi. There was no time to shove her out of the way, i just wansn't close enough to her. But why? Why save her? I'm not sure. But I do so anyways. In my final seconds of consciousness, the world turns sharp for me. Each and every detail is hewn from glass. I see Tsukumi's face, afraid. I never want to see that again. Someone like her shouldn't be afraid of anything. Perhaps that’s why I’m helping her, arrogant as she is. I see "Mary"'s face. With a grin that could pass for a shark's, she closes in on the kill. I see Caine. Anzix. Kaixin. All staring with horror etched upon their masks. A wry grin forms. I'm sorry for this, everyone. The sliver of shadowflame slams into me. Everything around me stops and becomes deathly still. I close my eyes and embrace the black. Category:User:ChineseLegolas Category:Infernum Category:Stories